


Defying the Stars

by ofhoneyandrosepetals



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23343973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofhoneyandrosepetals/pseuds/ofhoneyandrosepetals
Summary: Modern!Ivar and reader meet at the university, in a very crowded lecture and end up sitting next to each other on the stairs of the lecture hall.
Relationships: Ivar (Vikings)/Reader, Ivar (Vikings)/You
Kudos: 31





	Defying the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request I received on Tumblr, and slowly I'll be adding my one-shots here! Do I need to mention the straight up reference to Shakespeare...? No...? Okay...

You knew that subject you chose was crowded; everybody told you that. But you had no idea it was _that_ serious. When you got to the Lecture Hall, there was no seat for you. 

“Oh, shit,” you said silently when you had sure that there wasn’t a seat for you.

“I know, right?” you heard someone saying; actually, it was a guy. You looked to where the voice came. He looked nearly 20 years old and was sitting on the floor - well, he was sitting on the stairs of the Lecture Hall. You couldn’t see his face completely, but you could already tell he was a handsome man. “They really messed up this time with the capacity, but…” he looked up to you. You almost said ‘oh shit’ again.

Bright blue eyes - a dark blue that was so bright that didn’t even looked dark -, brown hair tied in a man bun and amazing features. Everything was so harmonious in his face. How his eyebrows framed with his eyes, their expression, and how his nose matched his plump lips. He was the complete pack.

“So... you’re sitting here?” you asked.

“I sure am. Got no choice, right? Unless someone wants to offer a lap, I wouldn’t complain,” he laughs discreetly, looking you up and down.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t either. Can I…” you point to his side, a perfect place that you could fit to sit and watch the lecture.

“Yeah, sure,” the guy moved some books so you could have a little more space. “I’m Ivar, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you responded, smiling.

The eye contact Ivar made with you was so beyond your skills that you wasn’t sure what to do - or even how to look. You just stared back, but sure not as sensual as he was. He licked his lips and said before moving his attention to his book again: “Y/N is a great name.”

_Oh, yes it is_ , you thought to yourself, gripping tightly your pen, thinking that you just screwed the whole flirting thing. When would you had another chance to had eyes like that locked on yours? Not even God could answer that. 

You were feeling embarrassed, not really sure of what to do without thinking if Ivar would be looking, and what would he think. Not that this matter. Yeah, that doesn’t matter. He was too deep in his own notes, so you decide to take a look in your own book.

The moment you opened it in some random page, you heard his voice again.

“What do you think the professor will talk about?” Ivar was still immersed in his notebook. You stumbled in your thoughts before answering.

“I… hm… maybe some classic topic? This always happens, either for being the first lecture, or for the subject itself.”

“Classic, you say?” Ivar asks in a debauchery tone. You just nod. He was still writing in his notebook. You wondered how he could keep up with a chit chat and write at the same time. “I say that your ‘classic’ is my ‘cliché’. You see, I got to a point where classics lost my interest and became cliché. They’re just… overrated. Not the masterpiece itself, but what people made of it. How they interpret it. It’s always the same. ‘ _To be or not to be_ ’,” Ivar mocked. “ _Really_? That’s your discussion over it?” He looked annoyed, but finally looked over at you, deep in your eyes. “Hamlet have so many treasures inside of it. And that’s not even one of them. There are more deep things to discussion over for in Hamlet.”

Ivar suddenly got back to his notebook, not really giving you a chance to answer. Of course you were free to talk, but he didn’t let you comfortable with it. It looked like he wasn’t paying any attention in whatever you would say next.

“There are theories saying he wasn’t even real,” you said lowly, almost whispering. You sounded like a child.

“Oh, but he is,” Ivar said. “In soul. Not _his_ soul, just… a soul. Culture, people. A general soul in all arts.” 

You were staring at him when the professor arrived, but he seemed to not notice it. The professor started talking, but even so, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Ivar’s hands, seeing they writing. He had a wonderful handwriting.

“...so, for example: Romeo and Juliet!...” you heard the professor saying, not paying any attention. You could see the corner of Ivar’s lips twitching, and then you heard him whispering, making fun: “Oh, I am fortune's fool!” At the last word, he looked at you, his eyes saying ‘what did I say?’

“You’ll see the grace in it,” you whispered back.

“What?” you caught him off guard, you could see that.

“I said you’ll see the grace in it. In clichés. You just haven’t found the right thing yet.”

“The right thing? What would that be?” Ivar was doing that eye contact thing again, and you felt the need to close more your legs. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice it. But there wasn’t one little thing that happened around Ivar Lothbrok that he didn’t notice. Seeing you clenching more your thighs against each other made him want to continue. He scratched the corn of his jaw. Who could tell that one miserable movement of this man would lead you to almost insanity? He knew he was that gorgeous, that handsome, and he used that to tease you - and God knows who many others.

“The right thing depends on you to find it. Only you will know it at the right time,” you said not looking at him, trying to focus in your book.

“What is it to you?”

“What?” you still wasn’t looking at him.

“Your right thing. What’s your right thing to see grace in clichés?”

You first looked to the space between you. It was little. Short. His hand was there, supporting him, and he was slightly leaning back. You took note of his muscular arm. You were seeing him little by little, piece by piece. He was following your gaze, knowing what you were unconsciously doing.

“My right thing to see grace in clichés?” you asked, looking at his lips.

“Yes,” he said harshly on purpose.

“Life,” you said, finally looking him in the eyes.

One-word answer. One-word cliché answer. And yet so deep that Ivar had to think about it.

“Just life itself?” he asked, just to check.

“Life provides if one wants to accept it.”

There was a tension in the space between you and Ivar. There was a tension between your gaze. ‘So all I gotta do is to accept?’ Ivar wanted to ask, but the need of not ruining the good, sexual tension was bigger, so he just kept quiet.

*

As the professor droned on, Ivar was thinking how he would invite you to grab some coffee. ‘Romeo may defy the stars, but would I dare to defy such a greater thing to you go out with me?’ _Gods, this is the most lame thing I ever had thought. I would offend her. I should keep my weird sense of humor and go… cliché,_ Ivar thought.

By the end of the lecture, you were putting all your things inside your bag. You were taking your time, hoping that Ivar would say something. You packed your things and he was still quiet. His expression gave the hint that he was struggling with some internal business. You were placing your purse strap at your shoulder and getting up when he said in a hurry: “Wait!” he got up with quite some struggle, the stairs making it difficult with his crutch. He placed his backpack behind his shoulder and, one hand in crutch, he passed his free hand through his hair, as if to straighten it, but there wasn’t not even a single strand of hair out of place. “I was thinking if you would like to grab some coffee with me anytime,” Ivar sounded nervous. You enjoyed that. Every confident man has his insecurities. “You could tell me more about the life providing thing. I could take some use of that,” now he sounded confident again. Well, everything that’s good lasts little.

Instead of giving a ‘yes or no’ kind of answer, you ask: “What’s your last name?”

His eyes showed confusion, but he responded, without losing his charm: “Lothbrok.” You nodded and smiled gently. Your body was filled up with confidence.

“Did you just defied the stars, Ivar Lothbrok?” his thoughts gasped at the reference. You were making a reference of Romeo and Juliet, but it wasn’t just that. Ivar had actually thought about that quote. To defy the stars meant such a great thing. You were asking if Ivar had to go against all insecurities to ask you out. He smiled, not taking his eyes out of yours.

“I may have defied the stars,” he bit his bottom lip. “And much more.”


End file.
